Mrs. Schoen bade her a cheerful farewell and left to deliver the bucket of dye to Daniel.
She almost didn’t recognize him when he returned. “Well?” he said as he turned before her.
“You look like a Spaniard I once met,” Keelan had replied, grinning.
“We are Persian,” he corrected. “I am Kahlil, a horse trainer, and you are my son, Mahdi.”
Mrs. Schoen appeared at the door. “It is time to go. My husband has served Gampo’s men a sample of his new bier.” She grinned. “He is walking among them asking dem how dey like it. Dey are not noticing der back door now.”
Keelan and Daniel moved as quietly as they could along the upstairs hallway, but it wasn’t easy carrying the trunk from Landon. She looked at the narrow stairwell warily. Not only was it narrow, the steps were steep. Unfortunately, not only was it the only passage to the first floor it also ended at the back of the common room.
Mrs. Schoen went ahead of Daniel and waited at the bottom, holding open the kitchen door. Daniel heaved the end of the chest up and led the way, taking most of the weight. However, she, stooped over and panting from the strain, still struggled with the back end. Each step down was precarious and stretched the tender wounds on her back.
Daniel reached the lower landing and turned toward the kitchen door. They’d made it. She let out an audible sigh of relief when her foot touched the last step.
Except…it wasn’t the last step.
Her miscalculation threw her off balance and slammed her into the wall, jarring the trunk from her grasp. It fell to the floor with a loud bang.
She froze. The room became deathly silent. Scowling and scarred faces turned their way. Her heart hit the walls of her chest; she was too terrified to breathe.
Mrs. Schoen’s eyes widened.
What had she done?
Mrs. Schoen recovered first and stomped her foot, releasing her hold on the door. “Vat are you doing?” She reached over and slapped the side of Keelan’s head. “You clumsy boy! I told you to be careful! Now pick up dat trunk und pay attention or I’ll take my husband’s belt to yur hide!” She jerked open the door to the kitchen. “Git going! And have a care, dis time.”
The men’s attention shifted back to their drinks and conversation resumed. Daniel gave her a relieved nod. She grasped the handle and followed him into the kitchen. Mrs. Schoen held open the far back door leading to the back alley. Once they made it outside, they lowered the trunk to the ground for a moment’s rest.
Mrs. Schoen cast a furtive glance up and down the alley. “I tink you vill be goot from here.” She gave Keelan an apologetic smile. “I hope I didn’t swat your noggin too hard.”
“I’m fine.” She threw her arms around the woman’s neck. “Thank you for helping us.”
Mrs. Schoen patted the back of her head and kissed her cheek. “Yur velcome, child. God bless and goot luck. Yu vill always be welcome here.”
Keelan and Daniel could have been any light brown-skinned man and his son as they shuffled along the street. Both held tightly to opposite handles of the trunk. Daniel’s soiled gray sack was perched on the lid and tied with a short piece of rope.
It was a bright sunny spring afternoon in Charleston. King Street was a flurry of activity as hawkers scurried about setting up their carts with wares of every sort, vegetables, jams, wine, fruits, baskets, brightly colored yarns, meat pies, smoked hams, candles, livestock and a plethora of other necessities both big and small. Women tried to save the hems of their skirts by jumping over the slimy stream of malodorous run-off oozing along the curb, then stepping lightly across the slippery cobblestones, careful to avoid the piles of waste deposited by the various beasts of burden traveling the streets.
Daniel stopped at the base of a ramp leading up to a large ship. It had three tall masts and a variety of canoes and longboats attached to the sides.
“Must have been a whaling ship at one time.” Daniel tilted his head up and examined vessel.
The Seeker. Captain Conal O’ Brien’s ship, part of the same merchant fleet as Landon’s ship, the Desire.
Captain O’Brien probably planned to follow the Desire south to Harbour Town, so their fleet of three could reunite and sail together. She’d almost balked when she learned they’d have to travel on the Seeker. If Landon didn’t want her with him, why accept passage ship guaranteed to travel with his? He’d think she was chasing him like a loose duck, feeding his arrogance. Except, she would have chased him like a loose duck anyway. She wasn’t about to let him go south without her, or without telling her the truth about how he felt about her.
Anyway, the Seeker was not just their best choice, it was their only choice.
A stout grizzled sailor sat on a small wooden crate near the ramp. He raised a shaggy brow as they lowered the trunk, and Daniel straightened to full height. He withdrew a tattered handkerchief from his sleeve to mop his face. He replaced the cloth and approached the sailor.
“I beg your pardon, sir. We have come at the suggestion of Mr. Schoen to inquire about employment. Does this vessel require additional hands?”
The sailor scratched his chin thoughtfully as he eyed both of them.
Her fingers twitched nervously and she studied the sailor’s countenance. Was he wondering if their claim to have been sent by Mr. Schoen was true? If he rejected them, they’d have to travel by land, which would be much more dangerous. They’d be mistaken for runaways for sure.
She glanced at Daniel and perused his attire. They had dressed carefully. Their clothes were well worn but clean. Both wore sturdy leather boots. Daniel’s graying hair was pulled back and tied with a short yellow ribbon. Her now shoulder-length brown hair was secured in a similar manner. Mrs. Schoen had given her a worn straw hat. It flopped lazily on her head and she was glad for the protection from the sun as well as from prying eyes.
“Aye, Schoen mentioned ye. We’ll take ye.” He held out his hand. “My name’s Henry.”
“I’m Khalil.” Daniel gave the sailor a brief bow. “This is my son, Mahdi.”
“What skills bring ye to this ship?” Henry asked.
Daniel placed his hand on her shoulder. “This lad can cipher well. He can also cook and is knowledgeable in the use of healing herbs. I can also cipher and care for livestock. We can both handle arms of almost any kind.” He drew himself up straight and raised his chin. “We are hard workers and have strong backs. While we have never worked aboard such a fine ship as this, we are quick learners.”
Henry continued to study the two before him. Was Daniel’s refined speech was confusing him?
“Are ye wanted for any crimes in the colonies or against the Crown?”
Daniel shook his head. “Nay, sir.”
The sailor nodded, satisfied. “We lost our cook’s helper a few weeks back, so the lad…” he nodded toward Keelan, “might be of use.” He squinted at the older man. “How well do ye handle horses?”
“I ran a stable for my employer in England. Until his recent death, I also served as his personal servant.”
The sailor nodded again. “That explains the way ye speak. The hold contains four horses which are quite valuable. We need a horse master with skills for care and healing. Perhaps you can help tend to them. One of the mares thrashed about as we loaded her, and has a nasty gash in her foreleg along with a couple of other scrapes.”
Daniel’s intuition seemed to have served them well; the sailor accepted the information without question. Posing as Persians should help them avoid too much speculation from slave traders regarding their cultural orientation.
“Ship sails tomorrow. First light.” He jerked his head in the direction of the ship. “Go on up and talk to Remus. Mention Schoen sent ye.”
Daniel inclined his head in gratitude. “We thank you, sir.”
Keelan reached down, grasped the handle and helped Daniel heave the trunk up the plank. So far, Daniel’s plan was working, thank the Lord.
The man named Remus sat on a barrel near the ma
inmast, a large leather-bound book perched on his knees. Mousy, brown hair hung straight down to his jaw. He was thick and muscled, making the book seem tiny in his hands. Daniel reiterated his conversation with Henry.
He tucked the front strands behind his ears neatly as he spoke. “Wages are one pound sixteen shillings a month total fer the two of ye. Ye’ll start earning today, and at first landfall, ye can request half of what ye have earned be paid to ye. Ye’ll git the rest of yer pay after the month. Ye should know we must first sail south to Harbour Town before we can deliver ye to Philadelphia.”
Harbour Town. They were indeed following the Desire south instead of traveling north.
She stepped back. Why did Remus say “before we can deliver ye to Philadelphia” rather than saying “before we can make sail for Philadelphia?” Did his assumption have anything to do with their association with the Schoens? Did Landon leave the Schoens with explicit instructions to get her north?
If Landon had changed his mind about wanting her with him, then the next best plan for her would be to travel back to England from Philadelphia. Her mind worked furiously. Yet…he had originally told her to stay there with his friends until he’d taken care of Gampo, hadn’t he?
What if he hadn’t changed his mind about wanting her and instead had lured Gampo away from her? Too many questions. Not enough answers.
Landon had made sure she couldn’t defy his will, and put herself at risk, by securing her passage via the USS Glory. If he didn’t want her with him, then he’d not care where she went. Instead, he made sure everyone involved (including the Schoens) in her transport would take her north to Philadelphia. He’d expected her to be on the USS Glory, though, so the Seeker could set her course to trail Landon. If he left before the Glory departed, he’d have no way of knowing she’d been unable to board the warship.
While he went south to engage Gampo.
Was Conal aware Landon was taking on the pirate alone? She set her jaw. As soon as they were aboard, she’d seek out Captain O’Brien and inform him of her suspicions. Surely, Conal would know what was going on.
Daniel glanced at Keelan, oblivious to her thoughts. “It might put us behind Jared’s letter to the London barristers, but we have no choice,” he murmured for her ears only. “Hopefully, Slaney will get to the trunk before the estate auction takes place. Either way, we must leave Charleston now and get as far away from Gampo as possible.”
As hot as the desire burned in her heart to find her sire, the trunk and its contents, it all meant nothing compared to Landon’s life and safety.
She’d go south.
Remus eyed them directly and spoke loud and clear. “Any man who leaves the ship before the cargo is off, will forgo the second half his wages. They will be split into equal shares and given to those who stayed and finished the work. Do ye understand these terms?”
Both nodded vigorously.
“Then sign yer name or make yer mark here.” He pointed to the column next to the one where he had printed their names and salary. Daniel stepped forward and dipped the ragged feather quill into the inkwell. He brushed the first drop on the rim then signed his name and gave the quill to her.
She picked up the quill and dipped it into the ink, a slight tremor in her hand.
“First time at sea, lad?” Remus asked, a friendly tone to his voice.
For a moment, Keelan wasn’t sure what to say. How should a boy named Mahdi speak? Henry didn’t seem to think it odd when Daniel spoke in his clipped British accent. It would be easier if she didn’t have to stray too far from her real self. It was hard enough to walk like a boy. She took a chance and simply lowered her voice a little. If Daniel could get away speaking in his natural dialect, then so could she.
Daniel gently nudged her with his elbow, making her jump.
“Oh! Uhh. N…no. No sir. I’ve been on a ship before…once…last year,” she spoke so softly Remus had to lean closer to hear.
“Well, then. You should get along just fine.” He reached over and clapped her on the shoulder, but almost fell off his barrel at the pained shriek he got in response.
“Don’t!” she reacted on impulse, pulling away from the sailor and then stumbling to her knees, blinded by the pain. He’d inadvertently struck the deepest gash across her shoulder blade.
Remus froze, uncertain what to do or say next.
Daniel looked on in shock.
Her lips trembled as she spoke in a tortured whisper, “I’m…sorry.”
Remus scowled at her, obviously offended at the disrespectful manner. Daniel jumped forward to extend a hand. Grimacing, she grasped it and allowed herself to be pulled upright. Dear God, what had she just done? Had she given them away? Would Remus realize she was a female by her screech of pain, or would he think she was a young lad who’s voice had not yet changed?
She prayed it was the latter.
Reaching up, she jammed the hat lower over her brow then slid behind Daniel, fists clenched at her sides as she tried to behave in a more humble manner. She could only breathe in ragged jerks. A sick dizziness threatened to pitch her to the deck. Tears burned in the back of her eyes and she fought hard to prevent them from spilling. How could she pass for a boy if she cried like a girl? Dread seeped through her veins. Had she ruined everything? She stared at the deck, awaiting the consequences of her actions.
Daniel attempted to regain his composure as he bent close to Remus’s ear and whispered confidingly, “I left him for a few days with Mrs. Schoen while I sought work. I fear he’s been a bit abused by one of the tavern patrons. Please do not take offense to the lad. I’m sure he won’t be quite as sensitive to touch once the lashes on his back heal.”
Remus’ eyebrows shot up then his features smoothed with understanding. “Right then. Follow me and I’ll show you the crew’s quarters.” With one last wary glance at her, he hopped off his barrel.
Keelan forced herself to steady her breathing. To distract her mind from the pain, she took note of the vessel they toured. The ship was long and broad with a lot of men moving about the deck getting the ship sea-ready. Barrels were lashed to the bases of two masts; the third had livestock fencing around it. Remus proceeded toward the main hatch then down the steps to the lower deck.
So far, their plan was working, but neither one would let out a sigh of relief or let down their guard until they were free of Gampo, or on the grounds of WindBriar, whichever worked out for the best. She’d hear it from Landon’s mouth before she made any more assumptions about whether or not he truly wanted her.
This plan had to work.
She clenched her teeth together in determination. Their plan would work; she’d make sure of it. Fingering the ring strung on the chain around her neck, her resolve grew.
They followed Remus down into the galley. He nodded to a slender pale man pouring over a leather-bound book. “This is Marcel,” he stated.
Marcel placed a short frayed ribbon on the page to mark his place then slapped it shut.
“Oui? And who have we here?” he questioned in a thick accent.
Remus urged his charge forward. “This is Mahdi. He’s your new cook’s boy. He knows a bit about kitchens and healing herbs. He’s to take young Billy’s place,” Remus said.
The Frenchman sighed and cast a skeptical perusal over Keelan. “And what would a boy like you know about working in ze galley?”
She squared his shoulders and took a deep breath then lowered her voice as best she could, “I can make scones, bread and tea cakes. I can dress a chicken and smoke a ham. I can whip eggs and heavy cream fast enough, too.”
Marcel cocked his head in surprise and then laughed. “We don’t serve high tea to His Majesty here, but if you can make those things, you can learn to make hard tack. Come zen. We must first make a list for ze last of ze supplies we should buy at ze market and apothecary shop.” He stopped and peered at the lad quizzically. “Can you write?”
She nodded. Finally, she offered something of value.
; “Bien. Let us begin.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was not long before Keelan and Marcel were weaving their way through the crowded aisles of the large market near the waterfront. Marcel stopped at one of the stalls and began to negotiate intently with a short, wrinkled woman over the price of ropes of garlic and dried peppers.
Keelan’s olfactory senses were bombarded with fresh and rotting fruit, livestock of all kinds and the sharp tang of humanity in general. Thankfully, a slight breeze wafted in from the sea and helped to dissipate the odors a bit. It was still humid, and the bandages serving to both protect her wounds and bind her breasts were already damp with sweat. She was grateful for the large straw hat Mrs. Schoen had given her. It protected her head from the merciless rays of the sun and hid her face from inquiring eyes. While confident with her disguise, she was not willing to press her luck.
“You there, boy!”
Her shoulder was jostled lightly and she jumped back, grabbing her hat before it flew with the breeze.
Keelan looked up and gasped.
Standing before her was Simon.
It was the first time she had ever seen the house slave from Twin Pines appear irritated. In her presence, his face had always been a mask of somber servitude.
“I asked you a question, boy. Don’ you got the manners to answer?” Simon frowned at her. He pulled out a faded green handkerchief, and mopped his brow and cheeks as he huffed.
“Si—uh…” She caught herself quickly and gave him a slight bow, uncertain how she should act. “S-s-sorry, sir.”
Simon put his handkerchief away. “I’m a looking’ fo’…” His expression froze. He leaned closer and peered at her face. “Miss Keelan? Dat you?”
She couldn’t breathe. He’d recognized her! Now what would he do? The market was too crowded to flee.
It was no use pretending.
She pulled her hat lower. “Yes, Simon, it’s me.”
The day the hurricane hit Twin Pines, she and Landon had been trapped in the cellar of an old cabin on the outskirts of the plantation. It contained a hidden passageway, and that day, Simon had brought three runaways, a family, there to seek shelter.
Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2) Page 12
